


let me be the one to show you

by sssammich



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:15:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sssammich/pseuds/sssammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m proud of you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me be the one to show you

Puck is not a Lima loser. He’s lost a lot since high school, but he’s not a loser. He’s made something of himself even though no one that he knew, especially himself, expected more from him. He’s succeeding in life now, distancing the Puck he turned out to be with the Noah he always wanted to become. Someone once told him he wasn’t a Lima loser. She was the only person he believed, even now.

He steps out of his ’57 cherry red Camaro because, of course, it’s the kind of car he would get. He’ll never admit it, but it reminds him of the cheerleading uniforms that swished about and teased him relentlessly. His aviators are propped up to his completely shaved head, no trace of the Mohawk he used to sport and he looks around, nostalgia quickly seeping back into his mind. He looks at the building in front of him; it’s the only decent bar in downtown Lima.

He opens the door and the bell attached to it rings. He looks up and watches until it stops. The sound is louder than he expects because the room is deserted. He walks up to the bar and sits on one of the stools. He drums his knuckles on the bar and waits patiently; he figures the bell is enough to signal his presence.

When he hears someone from the back, he sits up a little straighter, stops rapping at the bar.

She has a smile on her face and he’s stuck staring at it. “You’re a little early for a dri-” She pauses and the smile falters a little. She picks her smile back up again and walks slowly in front of him. “Puck.”

He offers her a smile in return as he slides his hands on the edge of the bar. “Hey, Quinn.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Getting a drink,” he says, a smirk on his face.

“Smartass.” She glares at him and he thinks it’s better than her smiles. This is familiar territory. “Well, what can I get for you?” she asks. He notices the flush in her cheeks and it makes him feel good about himself.

“Anything you’ve got. A beer.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me.”

Quinn bites her lip before she walks away and starts filling up a glass. She doesn’t look at him at all, but his eyes bore into her. She walks back right in front of him and places the mug by his hands with a thud.

“Here you go,” she says, letting her hand linger. Puck covers her hand with his. They look at each other and the silence is awkward enough that Quinn pulls her hand back, wipes it on the towel on her shoulder.

“Thanks.” He places the mug in front of his face, not once taking his attention away from Quinn. She pretends to clean the counter, fixes the already arranged glasses and bottles, and avoids his relenting gaze. He knows he’s getting under her skin much the same that she got under his for so long. It’s a refreshing feeling and he’s reveling in it. He continues to stare because irritating him has always been entertaining.

He takes another sip of his beer just as he sees Quinn snap. He can still tell. She has a tendency to calm herself before doing anything. So he braces himself for it, leans closer. He’s never lost his obnoxious streak.

“Stop staring at me! You’re freaking me out.” There, she said it. His smirk widens and he puts the beer aside.

“No, I was  _checking_ you out. But enough about you. Come on, my turn. Check  _me_  out. I’ve been working on my guns. I can even take my shirt off so you can see.” He flexes his muscles a little bit, trying to keep a serious face on. He finally laughs and leans back a little, taps on the counter. She rests easier, he can tell, because her shoulders relax and there’s no malice in her glare. She takes the towel from her shoulder and playfully swats his arm with it.

“You’re still kind of an asshole, you know that?”

“Some of us can’t be saints like Chang, you know. Besides, we all have our own destinies to fulfill.”

“Being an asshole is your destiny?”

“I mean, no one else can do it better than the Puckster.”

Quinn shakes her head, but there’s a smile on her lips. She looks at him, really looks at him, for the first time since he walked in. He wants to look away, but he started it first and he’s a man now, so he holds her gaze. She fiddles with the ends of the towel before she looks down and laughs, almost to herself. He can play four different instruments and can sing, but her laugh is still his favorite music. She looks up at him through her long lashes and speaks. “Still the same.”

He doesn’t smirk. His pupils are wider and he knows it. He smiles up at her and raises his mug up to her. “But better.”  

“But better,” she repeats after him. He’s not turning soft because he’ll always be a badass, but those words make him believe that he is better. “I’ll drink to that.” She walks to get her own mug and fills it up with the same beer. She offers her mug in the air and he raises his, clinks them together.

There’s a silence that blankets over them and Quinn pulls a quarter from under the counter and walks over to the jukebox on the other side of the room. His eyes follow her every move and he remains fixed in his spot. When he was younger, Puck stayed back and didn’t make a move because he was scared and didn’t know what he wanted. This time, he stays back because he doesn’t think he can handle being that close to a fallen angel. She’s still as beautiful as ever.

She turns around and faces him. “Any request?”

He just nods at her. “Surprise me.”She turns her attention to the jukebox. He notices her concentrating. He knows, even this far away, that she’s biting her lip, her eyes reading the words carefully. He knows she’s made her selection when she stands straight and takes a step back, turns around to look at him.

The raspy voice immediately starts playing and he instantly recognizes the voice.

_So come on baby, come on over, let me be the one to show you I’m the one who wants to be with you._

Puck doesn’t need to think about what he does next. He places his aviators on the counter and gets up from his barstool; he walks over to Quinn who’s been waiting for him in the middle of the bar. He’s pretending that’s what she’s been doing all this time.

He reaches her and puts his hand out for her to take. She does and they instantly pull each other close and start swaying. They’re silent for some time, listening to the music.

He hears the vibrations from his shoulders when she speaks. “Besides Mike, you were the best dancer in Glee.” He looks down at her and she meets his eyes. He laughs before twirling her.

“I’ve got great moves.” He waggles his eyebrows playfully and she laughs at him. They sway and twirl to the rest of the song and when it ended, he dips her. When he pulls her up, she surprises him by placing a chaste kiss on the cheeks.

He doesn’t move or say anything. She opens her mouth. “You were never a loser. You were stupid and a giant idiot, but you were never a loser. I can see that now.” She hesitates before speaking again. “I’m proud of you.”

“Did you ever love me back?” he asks instead of the thanks already on the tip of his tongue.

“Yes,” she says, interrupting him. He smiles at her and squeezes her hands. “Especially now.”

Puck was a Lima loser once, and he knows that. Someone told him that he wasn’t one and he believes her. He believed her then, he believes her now.


End file.
